


Lost and Ageless

by KidRoy



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Universe, Escort Service, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, bros being bros but its kinda sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidRoy/pseuds/KidRoy
Summary: Kendall and Stewy fly to LA to dig up dirt on WayStar's studio division prior to the execution of the bear hug. Kendall has to face what leaving WayStar could really mean.Takes place between Prague and Pre-Nuptial.
Relationships: Stewy Hosseini/Kendall Roy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	1. Kendall Never Got Used To LA

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, that'll be a slow burn plot heavy Kendall breakdown. 
> 
> The title is inspired by Lost in Translation (which served as inspiration for the mood of the story) and Los Ageless by St Vincent. 
> 
> Thank you to moonrocks here/successionsideblog on tumblr for helping me edit, and talking me through the ideas. (and read her fics too!!)

When Kendall enters his deluxe hotel suite, he diverts right to the bar at the far end of the room. It’s stocked and he can take what he pleases, his only real set request when getting the room. 

Vodka, top shelf. Ken grabs the Grey Goose. 

He sits on his bed, upright against the sleek black headrest. The whole suite is stylish. There is nothing about it that errs on the side of subtle. Multiple rooms, black silk sheets, a bed too big for an orgy, floor to ceiling windows that adjust with the light. Absurd by any other standards. Normal for Kendall.

He lets himself slink down and takes a swig of vodka bottle.

Kendall watches the sun set. The different colored reflections hit his hand from the window. He holds up his palm. Orange, yellow, white. A small smile. He starts to feel tipsy. It’s artificial bliss before he has to face the reason for the trip. 

Kendall landed with Stewy a few hours prior. The three hour difference always makes him feel stressed, like he has to live what has already happened. Stewy talked him into snooping around for meetings with WayStar’s LA offices, most importantly the studio, in preparation for the bear hug and the smear campaign to follow. Kendall knows it’s a good idea. Not everyone at the Studio is too keen on the family and Kendall has some good allies built through. Stewy has always been rather good at sweet talking information out of anyone. In fact, he took a meeting as soon as they landed and is probably on his second. Kendall didn’t have much planned for this trip besides a few initial alert texts that he is in town and would like to set something up. 

Kendall brings himself up to sit up. He’s still in that tipsy category rather than drunk. The realization means another swig. Kendall walks to the window, holding himself against the glass. 

It’s May. It feels the same as it did last time he was in LA, when it was fall. The city is an endless summer. Across the street, a man waits at a bus stop bench. A woman and small boy walk out of a movie theater across the street. Cars race by, but people outside don’t. It’s calm, it’s idle. Nothing really changes in LA. His life moves around usually, meet him, message her, plane to here, be back in 12 hours. It’s the pace he was born into. 

_What would it be like…_

He stares at the boy, about the age of Iverson, talking to his mother gleefully as he grips her hand. They disappear down a street. He lets his face fall into a solemn frown. 

Kendall never got used to LA.

The cars whiz by as he watches the shadows of each reflect through the blinds. The hazed orange sun begins to disappear behind the buildings of Downtown. He sighs as the colors leave. Only the shadows of each car in the remaining sun begin to darken. He sucks in his breath and fights his urge to finish off the bit of vodka. Kendall didn’t realize how tight he’s holding the bottle until his knuckles crack. His face is still as each passing car’s shadow hits his hand. He tries to count the seconds between them. Timing it with his breathing. A therapy trick he learned. He hopes this drunk lightness can take him away from the twinge in the back of his mind, not yet dulled by the vodka. His tolerance is way too high to block the dread of guilt. Maybe that’s what makes an alcoholic. 

He feels his back pocket vibrate. His jaw tightens. His habit of avoiding his texts and calls when things go wrong has been said to be an avoidant anxiety behavior. Unlike other things he does to forget, he never took his phone off vibrate. Every awareness of a missed contact Kendall catalogued in his head. He never evaluated it that way with a therapist or in a rehab session. They would put it in a nice little box for him, as they did everything else. Kendall just wanted to feel what he was missing. The vibrate setting does that. 

He needs to distract from it, so he stumbles his way to the couch. He turns on the enormous flat screen TV. It’s a distraction that seems almost like a normal person activity to Kendall.

Flipping through channels, he comes across Gil at one of his large rallies, giving a barn burner speech. Behind the podium, Kendall catches a glimpse of red hair that he’d know from anywhere. He grew up seeing that red. It’s a Roy trait he didn’t inherit but his sister did. He could barely make Shiv out behind the crowd but he knew enough that she would be there, probably the last event before she left for Scotland. 

The twinge in the back of his head begins to throb. He lets the lump in his throat turn into a small cry. 

Kendall doesn’t think he’s the one in his family that deserves it. Shiv is braver and made the leap without hurting anyone. Roman was so abused and took it. Connor isn’t even fully sane. His father came from nothing and built this all for him. He went through nothing compared to them and acts from fear, not morality. Not anything. It could all backfire. They could lose everything. It’s always there. He is alone and doesn’t have to suppress any longer. Well, he’s not alone. He has one person...

His stomach flips and desperately wants to drink but knows he can’t drink alone or he will fully be incapacitated. Kendall takes his phone and texts _‘Ready for takeoff, bro_ ’ 

And sends it to Stewy.


	2. Edamame and Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stewy knows Kendall is beginning to have doubts, and they fall into subtle old habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slowburn, good ol' hand touching fun. Thanks again to moonrocks here/successionsideblog on tumblr for editing!

“ - and they wanted the capital.. were looking to restructure. By the way, your guy Lawrence...hugeee bridge burner, made these guys work 80 hour weeks! No pay OT!..I think I'm going to get the wings too...I’m just..hungry…”,

Stewy takes edamame from their shared appetizer platter, holds the end up and lets the pea drop into his mouth. Kendall still hasn’t looked up from his whiskey. Stewy bites his cheek to hold off a grimace.

_Not good._

“...had such a light lunch...all those meetings...”, Stewy sucks his teeth as he ends his sentence, as he takes a bit of brie baguette. He glances again. A glimmer from the shared candle which lights the dimly lit corner of their side booth hits the brown liquid in Ken’s glass. It casts a shadow that seems to hit every crevice of his face.

Stewy first noticed Ken’s frown lines in college. He wasn’t even twenty and his face seemed set to a permanent frown. Stewy would suggest aftershave and moisturizer kits. He hoped that Ken would see it as him saying ‘take care of those lines dude, you’re going to need botox by twenty five’. Kendall didn’t really get the message.

After twenty years, the wrinkles grew deep into his jowls. In dark light, he looks five years older. At least. Seeing them makes Stewy’s irritation grow as he nervously kicks the end of the booth.

Stewy takes more edamame.

Kendall still has not looked up from his whiskey.

“Ya good there?”, Stewy lowers his head and looks up, trying to grab Ken’s glare away from his drink. “Come man...I met with the former Vaulter guys, worker abuse, padded numbers. We have enough to at least sink that arm of credibility. Like, you gave them a shit asset and left, man. Your instincts were somehow...right but off? You fucked them raw and got the STD, but you passed it on. They’re pissing blood now. Now we got you in treatment, eh?”.

That gets a squint out of Kendall, and a small grunt. That’s enough for Stewy to know he is at least working him down. But he knows what he is dealing with.

Stewy won’t try to fuck with Kendall if he can’t look him in eyes.

Kendall like this means Kendall on edge. Kendall on edge means he will get messy and hurt himself. It’s the cycle of Ken. High school bathrooms vomiting at 7am, sitting with Ken in the alley behind a Cambridge bar. He’s off the wagon, not the drug wagon, but the stability one. The one caused by a visit from his father, from a WayStar meeting, a bruise spotted on his younger brother at a family visit home. Stewy knows Ken is a loaded gun right now. It is his job to get the safety on and not pull the trigger.

Kendall’s lack of response gives Stewy enough time to review the predicament. And to start on the aged cheddar.

“Kendall”, Stewy reaches across the table to stroke Kendall’s thumb as it grips the glass. He feels the dryness of Ken’s skin. It reminds Stewy that he needs to lend Kendall his moisturizer again. He cocks his head down to catch Ken’s eyes a second time. This time it works and Kendall’s face begins to soften. It’s the physical touch that Kendall needs. Stewy knows he can handle it if he has a hand.

Kendall exhales and lets go of the drink, letting Stewy’s hand drop. A ritual.

“I..I’m good…Stew”, Kendall makes eye contact. “I just...saw Shiv..not here, like on the news. At Gil’s rally and I-I”, Stewy is relieved to hear him talk. He watches as Ken takes another sip of whiskey.

“Stewy... Why...do I have to do this to them? Shiv...she-”, Stewy grabs Kendalls hand under the table. It stops Kendall mid sentence.

“Dude, look at me…”,Stewy lowers his eyes again to stop Kendall from looking down. His neck craned down, his eyes up.

“Shiv chose to run away like politics was some Nobel fucking Peace Prize, opposite of your dad. Years ago. Do you think it’s that different? It’s bullshit. The game of it, we just are playing the same thing. She’s the white knight and the business is the black. She puts the rules and we put the loop holes. She can’t exist without us. She didn’t run away, she crossed a fence….Hey.”

Stewy grips Kendall’s hand under the booth. He kneads it out of a fist and into an open palm. The stress begins to leave Ken’s joints. Stewy has always done this. He’s always had to take Ken’s hand and lead him through. He doesn’t remember at what point it became literal hand in hand, but it's been a long time.

He sees the strain leave Kendall’s face. His rushed panic to vent is gone. Stewy focuses on keeping his strokes small and exact on Kendall’s palm. He has seen the worry fall out of Ken before and what it pushes him to do. What it has caused Stewy to do. But he also knows this time is different. Kendall wants this. He wants to take WayStar, it was Kendall’s idea and he brought Stewy in. If it was in Stewy’s hands, he would’ve made Ken walk years ago and just destroyed the company himself. This is Kendall Roy’s hostile takeover of WayStar Roy Co, not Stewy Hosseini’s. It is what the headlines will be. He intends on making sure Kendall can fully process that. It’s as important to the deal as anything else.

This time Kendall doesn’t take a sip of whiskey.

“You’re right...it’s bullshit...She’s..she’ll”,

“-be fine...shit”, Stewy reclines in the booth. He knows he needs to relax Ken out of this a bit more. He keeps his hand on his, “If worst comes to worst, she’ll move to whatever midwest place that middle management tool salesman looking fuck she’s marrying is from...”, Stewy notices Ken’s already broken into a side grin from his usual pursed lips.

“You’re right…”, Kendall lets go of Stewy’s hand. He goes for the last piece of the edamame, and twirls the end of the pod in his mouth. Stewy doesn’t want Kendall to know what he’s thinking, the doubt he has that this will fall apart. It’s distracting to the goal.

“So you think it's enough? Of a hit package on them?”, Ken says as he places his glass down. The waitress comes by and takes it. He looks up at Stewy, finally finishing up the last of the brie, spreading on the final piece of baguette. Kendall didn’t eat any of it.

“I’m telling you, the ad revenue is loose as shit.” Stewy leans back, and smiles as he drops the last pea in his mouth.“I still want wings, man”

_It’ll do for now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to drop a comment here or at my tumblr- kendallsparkcoke.


End file.
